Medice Ceres

Chapter 15

Waithe rolled his eyes. "My dear Ceres, talented be you in the ways of Magic, but hopeless in the art of swordplay."

"Let me try again." Ceres hefted the sword with both hands and swung it toward a mock enemy constructed of an upright bundle of branches. She missed. Waithe jumped out of the way as the sword escaped her grip and embedded itself in the soft ground between his feet.

He sighed as he extracted it from the ground, wiped the soil from the shiny blade, and sheathed it in his leather scabbard. "I think it safest for all that this weapon remain out of your hands."

Eira looked on with a grin on her face as Phy hovered nearby. Before the swordplay spectacle caught their attention, they chased each other about in a chaotic playful dance. It pleased Waithe to see Eira smiling, although she remained mute. Over the last several days she had clung closely to Ceres, as if fearing they would be forcibly parted. But who could fault the little girl after all the trauma she had experienced?

Ceres sat down on a log placed before their crackling campfire. A gamebird, taken earlier by Waithe's hunting bow, roasted on a wooden spit and emitted an enticing aroma. Strips of meat from another bird dried, draped over another spit placed further from the heat to be food for another day.

A solemn expression came to her face. "If I may, my skilled swordsman, what is it like to kill a man?"

Waithe sat beside her and gazed into the fire, pausing to consider a response to the unexpected question. "To a warrior, it be exhilarating, but each kill scars a part of the heart." He poked the fire with a stick. "I have killed many over the years, and most I would do so again in the same situations. I try not to think about them, but sometimes their faces appear again in my dreams. I hope the Creator God does not judge me harshly."

He turned toward her. "This be an imperfect world. You must understand, my Lady of the Order, that sometimes it be necessary to kill to survive, and justice may demand a death. I pray not, but there may come a time when you must kill or allow to die. But with it will be a loss of innocence that you can never recover."

"I think it already so. You are in my employ. Thus, I also share responsibility for those you killed to protect me." She paused in thought. "Wise is your council, Waithe. You would have been a wonderful father."

He smiled. "Thank you, my Lady. There be little praise greater than that." He motioned toward Eira who had resumed her chase games with the Spirit Phy. "And what of Eira? Would you raise her?"

"Do you think I could? I did not birth her."

"Family requires not a bloodline. Love and commitment make it so. You would be a great mother for her."

Eira's face brightened as she jumped up to the circling Phy, who just evaded her touch. Still no sound came from her lips.

Ceres said, "Phy seems to like her. If she would have me, then she shall be my daughter. And you, Waithe, you shall be as her grandfather."

He nodded and his smile grew. "Well, then, a family of sorts we shall be." He stood up. "Since you will not learn swordplay after dinner allow me to teach you some evasion and escape techniques."

*****

As they continued northward, the mixed forests of pines and deciduous trees opened up to tall grass meadows, interspersed with brightly colored wildflowers. Some trees still staked claim along streams and within valleys. 

Eira smiled, almost giggling, as the tall grass tickled her legs while riding horseback. At Waithe's urging while she rode with him, she plucked one of the long grass stems and used it to tickle Ceres on the neck when they came near. Ceres responded with a mock squeal, much to Eira's delight. Later, when Eira rode with her, Ceres had her revenge as Eira tickled Waithe.